


ix. with you.

by uselessphillie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 04:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13696713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uselessphillie/pseuds/uselessphillie
Summary: It hurts to look at him like this. The way it hurts to breathe when you’ve been laughing too hard, the way your heart aches when you’re filled to the brim with joy.or, dan and phil go on a spontaneous holiday





	ix. with you.

**Author's Note:**

> very, very loosely based on the aesthetic of greece 2017, but not canon-compliant.

Los Angeles is loud and crowded and overflowing with the sort of carefully-orchestrated chaos that Phil has always associated with this particular part of America. The sun presses gentle fingers into his skin, soothing the particular breed of manic energy that tends to overcome him on trips like these, trips where they live in conference rooms and obsess over details and try to maintain a shred of control over everything that’s happening.

But it’s their last evening in California, and they’ve got an early morning flight to catch. True to form, they’ve spent it in bed, ordering room service and watching crap American telly, taking advantage of thick hotel walls and a bed they don’t have to clean tomorrow.

Phil is lying flat on his stomach, arms crossed under his pillow and duvet draped loosely across his legs. He feels blissfully fucked-out and sated, calm for the first time since they got here. Watching the last rays of light peek through the skyscrapers and cast shadows across Dan’s face, Phil marvels (still, after all this time) that they get to do this crazy thing _together_.

For all the stress it’s given him, he wouldn’t give it up for anything.

Dan’s sat up against the headboard and narrating his Twitter feed out loud in Phil’s general direction. It’s one of the things he has a tendency to do when he’s got too much energy, when the stimulus of people and ideas and creating is still working its way out of him after a long day.

He craves Dan like this, loose and vibrant and laughing loudly, letting the sound of it color in every crevice of the room. He gets like this when they’re away from home, when they loosen their grip on routine and propriety and just let things _happen_ , just for a bit. Phil files the feeling of it away for the days when everything’s gone gray and blurry around the edges.

He can’t bear to give it up just yet.

“Let’s go somewhere,” he says out of the blue, interrupting Dan’s commentary on the latest political scandal playing out in 280 character snippets.

Dan looks over at him, rolling his eyes. “What’re you on about? We are somewhere.”

“I don’t want to go home yet.” His voice is muffled a bit by the way he’s got his face buried in the pillows.

(Dan hears him anyway.)

Phil watches his boyfriend toss his phone into the white abyss of the duvet, shuffle his body down until they’re lying face to face.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

Dan makes a considering noise. “Anywhere, hm?” He pokes his toes gently into Phil’s shins, smile bright and easy.

(It hurts to look at him like this. The way it hurts to breathe when you’ve been laughing too hard, the way your heart aches when you’re filled to the brim with joy.)

Phil reaches out to press his thumb into Dan’s dimple, nudges a knee between his thighs, always trying to pull him closer.

“Yes. Anywhere.”

***

Dan cancels their flight back to London, and Phil drifts off quickly to the familiar clacking sound of his keyboard. He wakes up to various pieces of clothing being thrown at him, a few thousand quid gone from their bank account, Dan saying _get up, we’ve still got a flight to catch, you lazy spoon_. Phil reaches out blindly into the cold void of their hotel room, connecting with Dan’s wrist, pulling until there’s a warm body sprawled out half on top him.

“Where are we going?” Phil questions Dan’s collarbones.

Dan's lips press against his hair, his forehead, his cheeks. “It’s a surprise,” he whispers, breath hot against Phil’s mouth. He lets Dan flatten him down into the mattress, he _wants_ and _wants_ and _wants_ and protests when Dan pulls away, tangles a hand into the material of his t-shirt.

“We have to go,” Dan says, and Phil should be embarrassed by the way his exhale sounds like a whine but Dan is clambering off of him, giggling and thrumming with energy.

He’s helpless to do anything but follow.

He always has been.

***

They’ve talked about Greece. It’s been on the list for ages, right under Japan, right next to Singapore. They talk about it sometimes at 3am, in the space between night and morning, the space where you can reach out and touch bright blue waters 3000 kilometers away. Mostly they talk about it after long, exhausting days, Dan’s head in his lap and saying things like

_i'm tired_

_we could snorkel, Phil, you’d love that_

_what about this august, nothing ever happens in august_

(August had come and gone again this year, but September is close enough.)

***

_i. they sleep. long and deep and swathed in luxurious egyptian cotton, long limbs spread across a vast white canvas._

_ii. minutes, hours, centuries pass while he counts the freckles blooming across dan’s skin. time doesn’t exist as long as he can press his lips to each one, as long he can draw new constellations in a golden sky._

_iii. he loses himself in bright blue ocean, in yet another universe below the surface._

_iv. he loses himself in dan, in skin and slick and sound. his entire existence aches to stay, to hide away here, to spend infinites tangled up like this._

_v. he tucks a photograph against the edge of the tackboard, just behind the camera lens. brilliant blues and whites in the background and his mouth pressed against dan’s cheek, smiling, smiling, smiling, delirious with the force of it._

_vi. they’ll go anywhere again, sometime._

_vii. dan brings him a coffee, sinks himself into phil’s space, says shall we film something today, let’s get indian for dinner, who do you think will get eliminated in bake off tonight?_

_viii. (home is a sort of anywhere, too)_

**Author's Note:**

> like/reblog this work on tumblr [here](https://moon-boye.tumblr.com/post/170917591845/title-ix-with-you-read-on-ao3-word-count-974) or just come say hello: [moon-boye](https://moon-boye.tumblr.com/)


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